BAD LIGHTS HAPPEN !

Our Lord's capricious

"WISDOM"

In making 'The Fly'

Is NOT the only

"WHY"

I'd demand...

There's this annual

Occurrence that ties me

In knots; a matter

I don't understand...

How does it happen

( Just 11-12 months prior )

When Xmas lights are

Carefully stored;

Upon plugging them in,

The very next year,

Their brightness is sadly

NO MORE ?!?

The strings look intact

But - OH! - how they fool;

Is this a cruel joke

By some wire?

Perhaps I unwittingly

Select nascent 'lemons'

And ruin future

Xmas attire !!

THIS year will be different,

I firmly declare:

Their packing will get TLC;

'Temperature control'

Likely needs more attention

RE: post-season '23 !!!

poem by L.P.-G. / c. 2023

COLD, HARD FACT: EVIL IS 'AS EVIL DOES'

 

Oh, "CAGEY" is not

Super Smart;

It's more "reptilian brain".

Folks like these

Do as they please

It's all for selfish gain!

Sociopathy is the key

To scheme and bribe and con.

Yet, why do scores

Refuse to see

The wickedness of Don?

Is it  that they're just gullible,

Or yearn to be beguiled?

 Perhaps they never quite evolved:

 Their brain remains 'a child'...

poem by L.P.-G.

A SEASONAL INTERREGNUM

                                                                      

Eggnog replaces cider-spice, and

Autumn leaves by mistletoe...

Turkey dinners are exchanged

For evergreens and powdered snow...

Scarlet overcomes orange-tones;

Hay-bales yield to Christmas trees.

No more pumpkin pie right now,

But sugar-plums on a frosty breeze!

A snowman beckons

Toward the stars;

With darkest coal-black eyes...

Yet, it's too early

He is told , for

Reindeer in the skies !!

Autumn Stands Brooding

It rose east, on high, Autumn's

Dark, slattern sky;

       So brooding; so sullen and gray.        

                         

                                White 'sheep-clouds' lay withered,

Their pillows gone flat ;

Now outlines looked

   Ragged and frayed...    

These are the skies

That foretell a grim landscape:

Damp pastures and bare-naked trees...

For months we'll light candles,

Tend fires, 'make merry'

As late-fall bends

Sun... to its knees.

poem by L.P.-G. / 11-2023

THREE WITCHES ARE BETTER THAN ONE !

                                                                           

       

Fire burn and cauldron bubble !!!

November post-script: When King James VI came down to London from Scotland, Shakespeare wrote Macbeth. What's more, he put lots of witches in it; supposedly, just for him !!!